


I Feel The Weight of A Love That’s Gone Away, I Feel The Weight

by Velocity_Owl87



Series: Qui Gon's Parallel Life [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Day of the Dead, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Introspection, M/M, Qui-Gon Lives, Soulmates, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 22:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12616516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velocity_Owl87/pseuds/Velocity_Owl87
Summary: In a rare lull, Obi Wan takes time to remember and grieve his master and love, Qui Gon.He had forgotten that there are certain days when the dead can hear the living.And sometimes, do much more than that.





	I Feel The Weight of A Love That’s Gone Away, I Feel The Weight

**Author's Note:**

> It is the Day of the Dead and after watching the Book of Life, it nudged me to write a piece where the dead are listening to the living and actually can do something about it.
> 
> Title is from Miike Snow's song "I Feel the Weight."

Obi Wan held the stone that Qui Gon had given him on his thirteenth birthday and stroked it almost mindlessly as he recalled his old master. The dark brown hair that swirled around his shoulders, the dark blue of his gaze and the way that his eyes would narrow in amusement at something. His close lipped smile that barely showed the gleam of strong teeth. 

The way that he would look at Obi Wan after they had both come, his golden skin flushed as he’d-

Obi Wan cut off that thought forcefully, not wanting the ache and longing to overwhelm him once again. 

He missed him every day, but during the days that Qui Gon had observed old rituals from his homeworld, the ache became a deep chest crushing pain that made it hard to breathe. A pain that would ease up only briefly when he’d think about Qui Gon and feel the tamped down bitterness that thinking of his lost master brought him. He closed his eyes and tightened his grip on the singing stone.

It was the last thing that he had left of his master and he treasured it as much as he would allow himself to break the code to do so. He knew that a Jedi didn’t form attachments or claim possessions. But this was an exception. 

It was the only tangible token of Qui Gon’s love and he’d be damned if he’d ever be able to reach such a level of antipathy towards the only tangible token of love he’d ever received from his master. He had to be parted from him and push all of his emotions away. Surely he could indulge himself only this once? 

He gathered himself up and tried to breathe normally as he prepared to release all of those feelings into the force. 

He had wallowed enough at that moment. 

He still had reports to go over and Anakin to discuss strategies with before another campaign was started in the never-ending and occasionally futile seeming war. There was barely enough time that he could spare for his private grief and the still painful losses he had endured. There was still so much work to do and he had to finish it. 

Sighing, he opened his eyes and looked down at the stone, noting absently that it seemed a bit brighter, like a moonstone, in the night. Maybe it was a trifle heavier than he was used to? 

Obi Wan wasn’t sure. 

What he was sure of was that he was tired and the song of the stone was muted as it hadn’t been before. It did make him start a bit, but not enough to pursue the reason for it at the moment. 

The exhaustion that he had been keeping at bay was clawing at his consciousness and wouldn’t let go. He had reached his limit and had to sleep lest he collapse at an inopportune moment. 

The one thing that the sudden tiredness had brought was the release from his grief. He was too far gone for it to pain him like it had earlier when he had noted the day and picked up the stone that eased the still sharp agony of loss.

He rubbed his eyes with his free hand and moved towards his bed, not bothering to put the stone back on its usual spot on the shelf in his quarters. He wanted it closer that night, not quite understanding why it was so important for that to be the case, only that it was necessary. 

He didn’t bother shucking off his robe, only his boots and crawled into bed. 

The last thing that Obi Wan recalled was placing the stone by his pillow and then blessed darkness came over him. 

- _ It was much too warm in his bed and he pushed the covers away from himself and pulled his robe off.  _

_ Or at least that was what he had tried to do, but found himself pressed up against a warm, solid presence that made his heart stutter and unbidden tears spring to his eyes.  _

_ He didn’t speak, only turned enough to be able to confirm that it was true and not a hallucinatory product of his overworked mind.  _

_ It was him.  _

_ The same Qui Gon that he had shared a bed with before they had parted forever.  _

_ There were more lines fanning from the corners of his eyes. More grey in his hair and beard, but it was him.  _

_ His master. His love.  _

_ He didn’t realise that he had said that outloud until he heard the quiet chuckle that he knew so well.  _

_ “I’m here, dear heart. It’s not a dream.” _

_ The tears came in earnest then as he was maneuvered so that he was lying with his head on Qui Gon’s chest. He raised his hand and tentatively rested it over where the wound that Maul had given him would have been and the tears came even harder when he felt warm flesh and heard the steady heartbeat under his ear.  _

_ Qui Gon murmured something in a language that Obi Wan recognised as the remnants of what Qui Gon had retained from his homeworld as he stroked his hair. Despite the comfort that the gesture brought, it still made Obi Wan’s tears become a veritable storm, the sobs tearing at his throat as he buried his face into his lover’s chest. An action that he hadn’t done in long years.  _

_ “It’s alright. Grieve. I’ll carry you. Even if it’s just for tonight. Grieve, my love.” _

_ The words broke him in a way that recent events and losses hadn’t and Obi Wan does just that: Grieves until his eyes are swollen and scratchy and his nose is clogged and he feels utterly defeated and bone-weary.  _

_ He closed his eyes and sighed heavily, his chest feeling hollow, yet light. The worst of the storm had passed and he was finished.  _

_ “Sleep, My Obi Wan. Sleep.” _

_ He felt the press of his lover’s lips on his forehead and the covers being pulled over his shoulders right before sleep claims him again.  _

-”Master? Master, are you al-What in the kriffing hells?”

Anakin’s overly loud and utterly dumbfounded exclamation snapped Obi Wan into wakefulness. 

He shot up and out of bed. 

Or tried to, since a strong arm around his waist held him pinned to the bed. 

He turned his head so fast to see who was holding him back, his jaw slack and his eyes wide at the sight of a now awake Qui Gon, his familiar Force signature enveloping Obi Wan’s senses like the sweetest perfume in all the galaxies. A signature and a bond that he had been sure he’d never know again until he too, had passed into the Force.

“It wasn’t a dream.”

He finally managed to choke out hoarsely. 

Qui Gon nodded, sitting up and pushing a lock of Obi Wan’s hair away from his face and tucked it behind his ear. 

“No. It wasn’t. I’m really here, dear heart.”

Obi Wan laughed hollowly, making Qui Gon cup Obi Wan’s face tenderly. Obi Wan whimpered at the touch. 

“How? Just how? Not that I’m not happy that you’re back...I mean...I lit your pyre.”

Anakin mumbled, breaking the charged atmosphere of the room. 

“I don’t know..I was in the Force when I heard Obi Wan calling me.”

Qui Gon replied, his brow furrowed as he turned to look at his grandpadawan. 

“It just made sense to go to him.”

He explained as he turned his gaze back to Obi Wan, who was surreptitiously leaning into the calloused touch of his master, hungry for it after going without it for so long. 

“I left you too soon, Obi Wan. I couldn’t leave you again when I heard you.”

Anakin made a soft noise in his throat at that. 

“Still doesn’t explain how you got here, Master Jinn.And please don’t just say it was the will of the Force. It can’t just have been that.”

Obi Wan straightened up and looked at the chronometer by his bed, making Qui Gon laugh quietly. Anakin scowled, not understanding until Obi Wan turned to him. 

“There are days in the year when the fabric between the living world and the Force are thin. That was how Qui Gon heard me. That was how he came back.”

It was then that he looked at the place where he kept the singing stone that Qui Gon had given him and saw that it wasn’t its usual soft green, but a dull blue and humming with a sweetly quiet song that nearly brought him to tears. 

It had been an anchor, Obi Wan now understood, for Qui Gon to look for through the veils of life and death to be here with them again. 

To be with  _ him _ again. 

_ “As long as I can be, my love. I will be with you.” _

Obi Wan looked up just in time for Qui Gon to kiss him, a clear rain water tasting kiss.

Neither of them noticed Anakin quietly sneaking out as they lost themselves in the taste of each other as the day began. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Day of the Dead/Samhain-The two holidays inspired this. I wanted for Qui Gon to come back in a corporeal form and stay. And do this during the two days that are the ones where the dead are so close that they can hear and see the living. Considering that Qui Gon is a strong force user and somewhat of a favored son of the Force, if anyone would cross over and stay, it would be him.  
> Obi Wan-I know he's one of the strongest characters in the Star Wars universe, but he too has his moments of sadness and grief. There's only so much a person can take and that's why he's so emotional and off kilter here.  
> Anakin-He kind of snuck in there and was like the matter of fact grounding point in the situation here.


End file.
